


The Duchess Strikes Again

by DixieDale



Category: Clan O'Donnell - Fandom, Garrison's Gorillas
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-28
Updated: 2019-05-28
Packaged: 2020-03-26 13:03:49
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,333
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19006345
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DixieDale/pseuds/DixieDale
Summary: She was called The Duchess, and was considered one of the best at the confidence game.  Now she was ready for one last con, for the highest stakes of all, but she needed Garrison and his men. She'd conned them once before; could she do it again?(Followup to TV episode 'The Frame Up' - a few months afterwards)





	The Duchess Strikes Again

She'd appeared on the arm of Major Kevin Richards, elegant as always, smiling and as nonchalant as if she hadn't conned them out of that bag full of money in Cannes. Catherine Elizabeth Raymond, aka The Duchess.

The outbursts from the men, at least everyone except Chief, had been immediate, though whether rueful laughter or protest prevailed was debatable.

"Major Richards, are you joking?" Garrison asked, shaking his head in mock dismay.

He wasn't, and obviously Richards was puzzled by their reaction. After all, The Duchess had been an integral part in pulling off that job in Cannes, although London had been a little put out that she hadn't returned with them.

Well, they hadn't shared EVERYTHING about that little job in Cannes. Hell, they didn't share EVERYTHING about ANY of their jobs, seeing as how HQ didn't have much of a sense of humor, and often just didn't understand that everything just wasn't as cut and dry as it might appear in the planning stages. (In fact, sometimes Garrison considered the reports he wrote to be an exercise in Advanced Creative Writing! Luckily he'd aced that in college, so was well prepared.)

And it wasn't like HQ would have been all that concerned about the money anyway, just that the job of discrediting the General had gone off (as far as THEY knew anyway) without a hitch. 

And even the guys had to admit it had been one sweet con on her part, AND Garrison would never have let them keep the money anyway, though they'd had serious intentions of trying to snaffle at least part of it on the trip home. 

So, while they still stung a little, there weren't really any hard feelings; in fact, they'd each felt more than a little amused admiration at the skill with which they'd been conned. Still, that didn't mean they were wildly in favor of teaming up again, at least not on a job. Elsewhere? Well, feelings varied. As Casino kept saying, "she IS one gorgeous dame!"

The mission was still up in the air, London waiting to hear back from sources deep inside Vichy France for needed details. In the meantime, the Duchess, instead of staying in London, was the most befeathered and bejeweled canary the local pub had ever had in its nest. She'd been in Brandonshire for three days now, and had spent a good deal of her time at the Mansion, going over potential plans, becoming reacquainted with the team and its leader. And, when pressed separately by the men, she admitted to having an ulterior motive, a "little side job" that could be worth a fortune in the right hands. Maybe even a couple of little side jobs, depending. Of course, that was NOT mentioned to Garrison.

As Casino had snarked, "yeah, sounds about right! She has more twists to her than a pretzel!"

 

I.

She sensed someone in her bedroom, and turned to flip on the light. 

She'd been expecting someone from the team to show up, true, though she had thought it would be Garrison, looking for some straight answers - in private but NOT in her bedroom and not in the middle of the night. 

And of the others? Well, Casino and Actor knew her, and while they had reason to be at least mildly annoyed with her, she reasoned that their libidos would outweigh their annoyance easily. Chief she'd never even met before now, and she wasn't quite sure how to read him. 

Still, she'd expected any overtures, from any of them, to be more subtle than just showing up in her room at night.

She certainly hadn't been expecting Goniff. After all, she'd rather discounted him during their prior meeting. Oh, she'd liked him well enough, truly LIKED him more than she had the others, since it seemed he was the only one who seemed to have a kind thought (however misguided) to her wellbeing. After all, it had been he who had urged her to keep to the plan, win that parole. 

"That's w'at I'm going to do," he'd told her so earnestly, and somehow she'd believed him, at least his intentions. She wasn't sure he could follow through, but he did genuinely seem to want that. She just hadn't been sure why, and certainly hadn't seen any merit in his rather naive plan, if you wanted to call it a plan, to go straight and stay out of trouble. Somehow the notion of Goniff and staying out of trouble seemed an unlikely combination.

But to wake out of a fairly sound sleep (one of her occupation never truly slept soundly in unknown territory) to find the Cockney perched in the big armchair, just watching her, that was most unexpected and rather unnerving. She thought maybe he'd made some sound to awaken her, but perhaps it was just the intensity of his gaze.

His voice was soft, but uncompromisingly steady and serious, telling her this was no casual visit, nor one undertaken out of some wild romantic urge.

"Allo, Duchess. Sorry to disturb your beauty rest, but figured we 'ad a few things to talk over, in private like, and this seemed the best way. You all comfy? Want me to bring you another pillow, a drink of water?"

She couldn't help from smiling. {"Yes, I remember how much I liked him and his solicitous ways! It is rare for a man to be so considerate without an ulterior motive. Or am I just assuming he has no ulterior motive? Hmmm."}. 

"No, I am quite comfortable, at least . . . Will it embarrass you if I sit up? I must warn you . . ."

"Won't bother me; can fetch your robe from over there if you like, but don't figure you've anything I 'aven't seen before," and his smile wasn't nearly as innocent as she'd somehow expected it to be. Certainly he wasn't embarrassed in the least. 

{"Perhaps I was reading far too much into Casino's reaction before. I thought he was trying to prevent his friend from being embarrassed; is it possible the man truly WAS trying to be protective of me? But it wasn't as if he and various others hadn't seen me without my fur coat, after all; why would he think it so important that Goniff and the rest of the team NOT? Perhaps it WAS a burst of chivalry after all."}

She accepted the robe from his outstretched hand, donned it as he turned his back to give her some privacy, no matter the boldness of his words.

"Very well, I am settled. Now, what did you want to discuss?" she asked, curious, since his manner really was different than she'd remembered it.

He settled down in the chair, leaning forward, elbows on his knees. 

"Just w'at are you up to, Duchess? Or, to tell the truth, I aint so interested in w'at you're up to, as I am that it's not something that's gonna land the guys in trouble, ruin their, our chances."

She pouted a pretty moue at him, the most innocent look she possessed filling her eyes. That had him quirking an amused brow at her in return, one corner of his mouth turning up in acknowledgement of what was at least a good effort. 

{"That one usually works quite well. Disappointing. Of course, truly innocent looks are not my speciality, have not been for a number of years. And it certainly doesn't compare to that innocent look HE wears so well. Perhaps his is no more real than mine?"}

"And just w'ere is your fiance, Bernardo? You lose 'im along the wayside? Can't imagine you lost all that lovely money, though, now did you? Come on, Duchess, give."

Shrugging, she replied. "You heard what Major Richards told you. Your people in London contacted me, said I was the only one who could pull off this little job. They offered me a great deal of money, you know, along with an offer of a full pardon, relocation, a new name."

He snorted in disbelief. "After w'at you pulled the last time, they're stupid enough to ask you to 'elp them again? Expect me to. . . Well, I admit, they ARE that stupid, right enough. Seen enough of some of their nonsense to know that. Then, alright, say I believe that. Why us? The Lieutenant, the guys, they got long memories, and none of them are all that 'appy with w'at you pulled; not as pissed as if you'd wrecked the mission, acourse, but still that was a lovely swag, and there was always the chance we could have snaffled SOME of it away from the Lieutenant."

"Yes, well, you and your friends are very talented, and this job will take talented men, men with, shall we say, a certain flexibility of thinking. And there are opportunities, you know, far beyond what Major Richards and his people can begin to imagine. Very profitable opportunities once we are on location. I could use someone with imagination at my side; someone like you, perhaps."

The Duchess gave a slow seductive smile, inviting him to join her in her amusement, perhaps inviting him to join her in even more. She'd made sure that every little shrug let that robe slip just a little more, til now it didn't conceal nearly as much as it once had. It was a little disconcerting to have him repeat that snort and follow it up with a "not likely. Told you before. I want that parole; I've got plans."

Cocking her head, sensing he was telling her the truth, wondering if she was losing her touch, she asked, a touch of asperity in her voice, "and you believe you will receive that parole, even if you do all they ask? And if you do, do you really think you will, how did you phrase it, 'go straight'? Surely you have had opportunities to do just that through the years, Goniff, and yet, here you are."

He flushed, knowing she was right to some extent. "Yeah, well, this time it's different. Told you, got a plan. Don't know if it will all work out, but it's w'at I'm trying for, and I aint alone anymore. Thinking that might just make the difference, 'aving someone along side, 'aving something definite in mind, not just a general idea of staying out of jail. Like with the Lieutenant and all 'is plans, down to the last detail, at least upfront; might not work, but better than just diving in."

"Tell me," she encouraged him with a warm smile, only to receive a firm shake of his tousled head.

"Aint 'ere to talk about my plans, Duchess, but about yours. The job? Long as it don't land us in the soup, that's your nevermind. But the guys? Saw you eyeing them, sizing them up; could tell w'at you 'ave in mind, not that you made any secret of it. You do just lay it all right out there, don't you, even if it's in that 'igh class way that Actor puts such store by. Just come to deal straight with you about that."

He leaned back, pulled a cigarette out of his tunic pocket and lit it, inhaling deeply before he continued.

"See, Actor and Casino, they 'ave a pretty good 'andle on you, I'd think, but neither 'as any sense w'ere women are concerned, so expect you'll get w'at you want there, and no real 'arm done. Least, better not be, if you get my meaning," giving her a stern look. 

It was oddly paternal, that look, took her back to when she'd been fifteen, getting a reproving look and stern lecture from her father after she'd missed the mark in one of their little jobs. She'd learned the art of the con, the swindle from her father, the art of the seductress, the courtesan from her mother, and she'd studied diligently and was one of the best at both. She was rarely scolded these days, and it was a bit of a novelty.

"Now, Chiefy, 'e's another matter. There's someone 'e fancies more than a little, but that's not going nowhere right now, and may never, neither of them willing to take that first step, ruddy pair of idiots that they are. That don't mean 'e don't sample the waters now and again though, take a pretty lady for a spin in the moonlight, but 'e's careful about not getting in over 'is 'ead."

"Thing is, Duchess? You aint just another pretty lady, are you, not like 'e's used to. Oh, 'e's 'eard about you, plenty, but 'e aint ever come up against you. Wouldn't be surprised if 'e aint never come up against anyone even near your level. Now, I aint saying 'e wouldn't benefit from a little up close and personal time with someone like you, Duchess; most likely be a right good thing for 'im, in fact. But, 'e's already 'ad one bad experience with a pretty lady; don't want you to be another, if you know w'at I mean."

His earnest gaze became something else, and she felt a chill through her robe, and hastened to draw it back up around her shoulders and tuck it tighter in front.

"I'd take it poorly if 'e had a bad experience, you understand? A nice spin in the moonlight, some advanced education, some good memories? Sure, I'd like to see 'im get a piece of all that; there's little enough nice times 'e gets a chance for. Wouldn't mind 'elping all that along, even. But don't you go putting ideas in 'is 'ead; don't go messing with 'im in any way that's gonna 'urt 'im, Duchess. And you don't even think about using 'im for a con and leaving 'im 'olding the bag."

He waited, patiently, letting her think all that over. And thinking she was. Obviously he meant every word he said. He hadn't made any threats, and somehow he didn't need to. Still, she felt the need to clarify one additional matter.

"You have not mentioned your Lieutenant Garrison, Goniff. Am I free to give him a little 'advanced education', a 'spin in the moonlight' as well?"

Goniff got an odd expression on his face, emotions she couldn't quite grasp flickering over his mobile face. Somehow she got the impression he was struggling to figure out just what to say, fighting some battle within himself, though he certainly hadn't had any trouble with the REST of his cautionary delivery.

"The Lieutenant don't need no extra trouble on 'is plate, Duchess; finds enough on 'is own without any 'elp. So you go a'ead and take advantage of those 'opportunities', if you want, but you make sure you manage it without leaving 'im knee deep in a cesspit. Anything personal, well, I'm not warning you away, not totally, any'ow. I don't 'ave that right. But same goes for 'im as for Chiefy. You don't 'urt 'im, not in any way. I don't care if you don't intend to 'urt 'im, whether you mean to or not - I ruddy well don't care, you understand? All I care about is that you DON'T 'urt 'im, not in any possible way, and there's more ways possible than you can ever imagine, with the both of them."

She stared into those intense blue eyes and knew he meant it, about Garrison and about Chief. She also knew, deep down inside, that she'd better be very sure NOT to hurt either of the men, really, to hurt anyone on the team. Somehow she got the feeling that the little Cockney would make a very formidable enemy, one with perhaps fewer scruples even than herself.

"Yes, I understand. But you would not be opposed if I offer a little 'education' to your Chief, whether or not I do the same for the Lieutenant and the others?" she asked, just to be sure. Oh, she intended to spend some quality time with Actor, certainly, and Casino as well. But the younger man had a strong appeal, and the idea struck her fancy, her providing some 'quality education', made her smile.

Goniff shrugged agreeably, "just keep in mind w'at I said." While he knew, or thought he knew, where Chief's long-term interest lay, still, a little side adventure probably wouldn't hurt. Well, look at him! He had Meghada, yet he hadn't gone making excuses for not doing his part in the assignments, like with Gina Marie. Even with Justine, though no one had known about that til after the job was over and done. Meghada had seemed amused, at least somewhat, though he had better sense than to do anything like that outside of the line of duty, wasn't about to risk losing what he'd found. But with Chiefy? Well, that was different, since he and Casino were being so ruddy stupid, so ruddy blind. No, couldn't do any harm at all, not to HIS way of thinking.

He drew his mind back to the half-dressed woman sitting upright in the bed.

She looked at him, speculatively, a little puzzled. "Oh, I most assuredly will remember what you've said. But you, yourself, you do not fancy a little 'quality education'?"

He laughed at that, thinking of Meghada waiting for him at the Cottage. He turned, stubbed out his cigarette in the ashtray on the small table beside him.

"Duchess, got more on my plate now than I can rightly keep up with. Sides, you remind me too much of my Aunt Moll, my mum's younger sister; oh, she 'as some years on you, but still . . . You always this edgy? That w'at 'appened to your fiance Bernardo, you purely just wore 'im out? Not a bad way to go, acourse; probably 'ad a right nice smile on 'is face too," delivering what was probably meant to be a compliment, though considering he'd just compared her to his aunt, who knows.

That got him an indignant huff. "Have you anything else to say, because if you do not, I would like to go back to sleep. I expect to be very busy over the next several days."

Goniff nodded agreeably, getting up and heading over to door. 

"Expect you will be, Duchess, and you need your beauty rest. Sleep well, now," and he was gone, leaving her to glare after him before settling back down in the covers.

 

He slipped in through the garden gate, then the kitchen door, locking both behind him. 

"Do you think she will listen?" Meghada had murmured as he'd slid into the bed next to her. His chilled skin quickly warmed as he pulled her heated body next to his.

"Think maybe, at least enough to do some serious thinking about it all. I DO like 'er, you know, even if I aint about to be trusting 'er. Aint easy for a woman in 'er line of work, but she does a real bang-up job at the swindle, the con and all the rest. Got nerve too. Don't mean to put a spoke in 'er wheel, not with the side job, not with any of them either if they're inclined; just can't 'ave 'er 'urting the guys. Just like I told 'er. 'Ope she listens; be a shame otherwise. Shame too that you don't know 'er, could put in your own word. Might make a difference." 

She snuggled closer, "I know of her, certainly, and not just from you and the guys. But I've never worked with her, don't have any particular influence; I wish I did too. Still, might not be a bad idea to make her acquaintance. Sometimes women have a way of understanding each other quicker and better than one might imagine. And we do have a few acquaintances in common; think I might just have you introduce us, let us have a polite conversation, just being friendly, you know."

Meghada wanted to ask if the Duchess had expressed any intentions in Goniff's direction, and if she did, what did Goniff think of the notion, but she was hesitant to ask. She didn't like to appear possessive or jealous. That didn't mean she WASN'T, but still she did hate to let it show.

He knew, though, and gave a pleased little laugh as he let his hands roam, letting her know he didn't mind her being possessive OR jealous, as well as making it clear that HIS intentions didn't involve going to sleep anytime soon. 

"Aint my type, luv. Like I told 'er, she reminds me a lot of my Aunt Moll. Just wouldn't seem right, even if the circumstances were different. And the circumstances are, aren't? different, I mean, aint they now?"

She'd think that bit of garbling through in the morning, once she could actually put two thoughts together; right now, he was making that impossible, and she didn't mind one little bit. She could always think tomorrow. Thinking, breathing, all that could wait.

 

II.

Chief looked up at the night sky, inhaled the cool air deep into his lungs. He didn't know why Goniff had been so quietly insistent that he take this break from the stuffy, smoke-filled air inside, but it had been a good idea. The air was sweet and moist, full of the richness of growing things, and he could feel his muscles start to relax as they rarely did.

He smiled in the darkness, a full smile now that no one could see him, wondering just what special treat the Englishman had in store for him this time. Surely that quick, whispered, "bet the summer 'ouse would be a good place to sit for a spell, Chiefy. Should probably do that before you go rambling off anywhere else. Wouldn't be surprised if you don't find something to your liking there," pointed in that direction. 

Well, Goniff did like to laddle out little treats to him and the others every now and again. He'd realized that when their pickpocket had been on his 'little bit of luxury' campaign; that, in reality, it wasn't anything new with him. Oh, on a much grander scale that time, of course, but Goniff had, almost from the beginning, seen that little bits of comfort came their way when he could manage it.

Now at the summerhouse, Chief looked around. His night vision was excellent and he could easily make out the additions but what on earth Goniff thought he'd want with all the covers and pillows, he couldn't guess, much less the filmy draperies that shielded three-quarters of the latticed sections.

"Unless he figures I'd like to sleep out here, and that's not a bad idea. Wonder if the Warden'd go along with that?" 

The wicker basket on the small table was interesting, and he thought he'd find maybe some of Meghada's baking, maybe a small glass jar of something drinkable. The bottle of wine and two glasses brought a puzzled frown to his face. "Wine? And TWO glasses?"

Turning his face back to the Mansion, he looked to see if Goniff was intending to join him for a snack and some private conversation, but figured if that was the case, it would have been whiskey, not wine, and the basket for SURE would have contained some sweet treats, which it didn't. 

A shadow at the outside gate caught his eye, and he was shocked to recognize the Duchess. She headed unerringly toward the summerhouse, and the thought crashed through his mind, {"Goniff, what the hell are you up to??!"}. 

 

The moonlight was soft and now barely illuminated the space within the summerhouse, the soft covers and throws, the cushions and pillows creating a welcoming bower, the filmy curtains giving the illusion of privacy. Goniff had assured her that it would be a comfortable spot, after she'd expressed hesitation over the idea of an erotic encounter in an open latticed summerhouse furnished with only built-in wooden settees and a couple of small tables. And the possibility of being interrupted by the guards or the other men had held no appeal. But the pickpocket had assured her it was all taken care of. 

"As sweet a bower as any lady might be wanting, I promise. And I've taken care of the rest, although I might tell you it cost me more than a little of the ready, at least with the guards, and I'll be keeping watch to be sure they keep to the bargain too. The guys? I'll 'andle them, and the Lieutenant too. You just concentrate on Chiefy. And Duchess? You keep in mind w'at I told you. You 'ave yourself a fine night, you maybe polish off a few of 'is rough edges, put a nice smile on 'is face, give 'im some nice memories, but you be right careful not to cross the line. I don't want 'im pining after you, or doing anything stupid. 'Ave all I can 'andle with Casino and Actor letting their cocks tell them w'at to do more often than not; it's been nice knowing Chiefy aint like that. Don't want you to go changing that. Don't know I've the time or energy to deal with that."

 

As it turned out, they needed the cushions, blankets and pillows, at first for relaxing against as they drank the wine and made quiet conversation. Then, as the glasses were put aside, the covers and all the rest indeed made for the sweetest bower a lady, even a Duchess, could desire. 

Just as Chief proved to be all a lady could desire, especially when the lady was ready to indulge in a little nostalgia. There had been that summer when she was seventeen, in the countryside, and there had been a dark-haired boy with a shy smile, not much older than her and far less experienced. She'd been Eliza, then, not The Duchess. That encounter had left them both with a smile, her with sweet memories, him with not only fond memories but a great deal more accomplished in his talents. And so it was with this night. 

She'd slipped away in the early pre-dawn, responding to the faint whistle from their little master-planner. Chief had roused, and she'd bade him goodbye with a soft kiss to his cheek and a soft "thank you. That was the loveliest night I've had in a very, very long time. Goniff says there's someone you have your eye on. Don't wait too long, Chief. You have too much to share and life is too uncertain to wait too long." He didn't respond, and she wasn't sure he'd even heard her, or maybe just didn't know how to respond. Still, he'd reached up and kissed her, gently, on the lips, and she'd slipped away to the impatiently waiting Englishman at the outside gate.

He'd laid there, remembering the night, and smiled into the softly-easing darkness. He wasn't sure what she'd meant, not really, or at least chose not to think in that direction; who knows what Goniff had told her. But it had been a night to remember, that was for sure, swinging from sweet and gentle, to fiercely impassioned, and back again. They'd coupled to completion, then laid in each other's arms til need or curiosity had them reaching for each other again and again. 

Before the sun crept up over the horizon, he'd got up, stretched, and folded and piled the covers in a stack, wondering what he was supposed to do with them. Hearing soft footsteps he recognized, he turned, giving a brief quirk of a smile. 

"Was thinking maybe I'd find a scone and a drink. Gotta say you outdid yourself, Goniff," getting a pleased grin in response.

"Well, opportunity like that don't come along too often, Chiefy; once in a lifetime, maybe even," searching his friend's eyes to be sure Chief understood that was exactly what last night had been. 

Chief grinned, understanding exactly what Goniff was trying to say. Well, he didn't disagree. The Duchess wasn't for him, not for real, but last night? Well, that had been something he just couldn't regret.

"Once in a lifetime is about all I could handle, I expect," he admitted. "She's something else, though, I have to admit that."

"Expect she is," Goniff nodded agreeably, as he quickly gathered the covers to toss them over the clothesline in the far side of the kitchen garden to air, then coming back for the cushions and pillows and the rest.

"Liked the idea of sleeping out here sometimes, too. Maybe, when the walls start closing in, the Warden'll be okay with me doing it again."

Goniff shrugged, "seemed alright with it last night w'en I told 'im you were needing a night to yourself out in the open. An agreeable sort, you know, w'en you catch 'im right, for an officer, that is," and that innocent vagueness was starting to reappear in the Englishman's blue eyes, as it did often when Garrison's name came up.

Chief snorted, understanding, knowing far too much in far too many ways. Well, after last night, he knew a LOT more than he had before, and a satisfied smile sat boldly on his face, one he had to struggle to get back under control before they headed back in the side door.

"Good night out under the stars, Indian? Sheesh, can't imagine wantin to sleep out there if you dont hafta. Didn't it get cold?"

"Nah, Pappy. I stayed plenty warm enough," not risking looking over at Goniff who was struggling mightily not to snicker.

 

III.

The Duchess wasn't sure what was intended, but when Goniff told her "I've got someone I want you to meet, Duchess. Think you 'ave a few things in common, in some ways," she had agreed. She didn't THINK he would be leading her into a trap, and was willing to take the short ride to a small cottage on the outskirts of the village, though if it had been any farther, she'd have been tempted to suggest SHE take the wheel. Whatever else talents the man had, driving obviously wasn't near the top of the list.

He'd handed her out of the car, walked her through the garden gate, and tapped at the kitchen door, but hadn't gone in. The look on his face was perhaps slightly apprehensive, but the smile had been genuine when the redhead had opened the door, as genuine as the quick kiss he'd given and received in return.

"Just like you asked, 'Gaida. You just give a ring, I'll come pick 'er up and take her back.

The young woman had shaken her head, "nay, laddie, you head back to the others. I'll see that the Duchess gets back to the pub once we've had a comfortable coze." Her expression as she looked at the other woman was appraising, but non-judgemental.

He'd taken a quick look between the two women, just a little uncomfortable at what he'd put in motion, but then shrugged, "as you like."

Then he'd added, "remember, 'Gaida, subtlety 'as a place in polite discourse; least that's what Major Richards always says," though there was something about that knowing smirk that crossed his face that made The Duchess wonder just a little, especially when the comment had gotten an amused gurgle in return, along with a quick, "well, that IS what I'm known for, after all, isn't it, subtlety and polite discourse?"

Somehow that snort coming from the departing Goniff made the visitor doubt that statement entirely. He'd turned at the gate, grinned at the two, shaking his head in what was now without a doubt pure amusement. 

"Don't worry too much, Duchess. She may bark, she don't usually bite." Then he'd squinched up his nose, and admitted, "well, not usually, least not unless it's a full out brawl. Or, acourse, when things get a little, you might say, 'eated, you know. She's been known to leave a few teeth marks then, but can't see you 'aving any worries. Ta!" 

And then he was gone, leaving The Duchess to stare after him, then turning her head to study her hostess.

Meghada looked at her visitor, up and down, as carefully as any man would have. 

"So, do I call you Duchess? Catherine? Elizabeth? Or Eliza?" Meghada asked, moving back, her hand gracefully welcoming the elegant woman into her kitchen.

{"Eliza? How could she know about that??!"}

"I'm called Meghada, along with several other things, some flattering, some otherwise. Gabrielle Lucien and Rene DuClos both served as my teachers for awhile, and they've both spoken of you, of course. Well, how could be otherwise? Legends, each of you, without a doubt."

The mention of two well-reputed names in her own field came as a surprise, and at least somewhat reduced the wariness she'd felt at the sight of those very observant gold-brown eyes.

Accepting a glass of brandy, seated in one of the big armchairs in the sitting area, she looked around her with interest. "Hardly a place I would expect to find a student of either Rene or Gabrielle. Are you, what is the term, rusticating? Or perhaps there is a game in play?"

Meghada laughed. "No, this is my home, and has been for some time. I try to keep any 'games' away from here, other than those that appear unbidden. It involves more travel, of course, but I find it pleasant to have a place of sanctuary I can call my own."

They chatted of this and that, sounding each other out, Meghada forming her own opinions of her guest, the Duchess doing the same, along with verifying her bona fides, of course.

Finally the conversation wound around to where it had been headed from the beginning.

"Goniff has told me of your previous interactions, and your current endeavors, including your more personal ones. I believe he visited you one evening last week, to offer perhaps some friendly advice?"

"Ah, yes. Am I correct in understanding you have something to add to that advice? Perhaps some additional prohibitions?" She hadn't missed the easy familiarity at the doorway, had placed the correct interpretation on that, and on Goniff's remarks.

Meghada shook her head, not in denial, more in thought. "Not so much an addition, just a reinforcement. I would greatly dislike any harm, in any capacity, to visit any of them. I would probably not limit myself to biting, if you understand me. Rene, Gabrielle can tell you, I am also known as The Dragon, and not without cause."

"You don't wish to warn me from including Goniff in my more personal activities?" The Duchess asked archly.

Somehow she wasn't overly surprised at the thrown back head, the laugh. "I hope I wouldn't have to; after all, our mutual friends spoke of your very high level of intelligence. I cannot imagine it has diminished so much since those conversations."

Brandy gave way to tea and scones, and over that homey touch the Duchess felt her way carefully to what she felt the urge to say. It wasn't really like her, and she had to wonder at herself, but the situation was hardly a usual one for her.

"He spoke of a plan, getting his parole, staying out of jail. Would I be wrong to think he is including you as part of that plan?"

A calm nod, "yes, I believe so; I certainly hope so. And I gather you have some thoughts on that?"

And Eliza, not the Duchess, hesitated and then boldly stepped out. 

"Yes, I believe I do. If you are using him for some con, I really wish you wouldn't. As I told him once, he is really a very nice person. Just as he, and you, warned me against hurting his friends, I would greatly dislike seeing him hurt."

Meghada looked into those lovely eyes, saw the truth there, and a slow smile, a truly genuine one this time, embraced the older woman. 

"Yes, he is, and I can assure you with all honesty, there is nothing of the conning between us, on either side. But enough with the tea. Tell me, Eliza, have you ever tasted really excellent bourbon? My family has an interest in a small distillery, and the product is quite remarkable. Sit, we will share a glass, talk of old friends and new. I have a feeling we may end up having a lot more in common than perhaps it looked."

And one glass turned into two, which on top of the brandy in the beginning, and the unexpected camaraderie that was developing, led to a fairly riotious sharing of comments and opinions and experiences. Enough so, in fact, that when Garrison came looking for the Duchess, not finding her at the pub and winkling out her whereabouts from his resident pickpocket, he found two very relaxed, slightly hilarious women, who proceeded to invite him in and in turns amuse, embarrass and horrify one young American lieutenant. His first glass of bourbon matched their third, and the atmosphere became charged with a few new currents. When he had finished his second drink, he was as relaxed as he'd been in a very long time.

And when the Duchess regretfully called an end to the socializing, Garrison volunteered to see her back to the pub and she'd agreed without hesitation. Somehow that look exchanged between the two woman made him a little uneasy, an uneasiness that did not dissipate when the Duchess asked him to escort her to her room. 

"All those steps you know, Lieutenant, so challenging" smiling at him winsomely. Well, those outside steps leading to the landing on the back of the pub, the ones that allowed overnight guests to reach their rooms after the pub was closed for business WERE rather awkward, he had to admit.

Turns out it wasn't only the steps that were challenging, but much to his own amazement, it turned out Craig Garrison was not only up to the challenge but met it without hesitation. When his soft goodnight kiss on her cheek, meant to echo the one he'd delivered in Cannes, failed, basically because she'd turned her head so he had missed his aim, he didn't argue with the soft, knowing, encouraging lips now under his. In fact, much to his own surprise, he didn't argue with anything else she had in mind either.

And if he found himself wondering at himself in the morning, making his way back down those awkward steps, he also found he had little of regret either. 

{"Truly a once in a lifetime experience!"} shaking his head and laughing. {"I just hope Meghada doesn't mention to anyone that I was driving the Duchess back to the pub, since the guys will know I didn't get back to the Mansion til this morning. God knows what they'll say. And, not that I'd discuss it with them, they'd probably never believe the truth and I don't know I could make up a lie that would convince them. And lying, especially lying and getting caught at it, would only make me look a little like an awkward high schooler anyway."}

 

IV.

Yeah, just like he remembered, she was one gorgeous broad! Not a kid, no, but still gorgeous, and he should know! He'd seen every inch of her when she'd dropped that frothy thing of hers to put on that fur coat. And this time they didn't have a job to deal with, at least not yet. This time, maybe he'd let more than his eyes roam over the Duchess. Somehow, he had a feeling she wasn't going to tell him 'no'. Hell, why would she??!

Actor thought he had the inside edge, of course, and there was Goniff with that innocent puppy dog act of his that she'd seemed to find sweetly amusing. Couldn't totally discount the little Limey, though. Was it Jake or Lou, down at the pub, who'd said something about guys like Goniff finding their way into more beds than you'd ever imagine? Couldn't see it in this case, though that thing with the little pickpocket and the Dragon still had him scratching his head.

Course, didn't have to worry about the Indian; hell, one look from the Duchess, Chief would probably run for cover. Not that he didn't take a dip now and again, but nothing classy like this!

And Garrison? Shit, sometimes Casino just had to wonder at the man. Just cause you were an officer didn't mean you had to turn off the juices, ya know? Nah, even though Garrison had dropped a kiss on the woman on that job, it had been him just giving her a peck on the cheek, and she and her so-called fiance had both had guns leveled at him at the time. 

No, Casino was sure he was a shoo-in, and the sooner the better. He had some serious plans, maybe a quiet dinner at the pub, a drink or two, then he'd be ready to get down to business. He snorted in amused anticipation. 

{"Could be they'll have to replace that mattress in her room at the pub once I'm done! Can see us doing some serious damage to the springs, ya know! Might even crack the plaster!"}

It hadn't been hard to arrange. Though the dinner probably wasn't as elegant as what Actor was talking about arranging for her over in Bayside, still it wasn't bad, and he'd come up with a half-way decent bottle of wine. Dinner, a few laughs, then a walk around the village green while the pub was shutting down, and him escorting her back to her room. He'd made sure to tell Jake, "don't worry. You go ahead and lock up; I'll let myself out the back way," and he figured he was home free.

He figured all the other guys were treating her with kid gloves, and she probably was ready for something a little less polite. Classy dames were like that sometimes. So, turns out she wasn't, and let him know it when he got a little too forceful. Well, he knew when to back off, and though he figured it was her loss, he toned it all down a little. Still, he figured he came out miles ahead of any other contender; hell, probably she'd need to put off her little dinner with Actor scheduled for two days out, give her time to rest up.

"Hey, babe, hell of a night, huh? You're somethin else, ya know??!" he'd smirked up at her when he awoke, that look on his face inviting her to respond in kind. He never minded a few compliments on his technique, his stamina, his out and out superiority in bed. What the hell, he earned them, didn't he??! 

She was already up and dressed, putting the finishing touches on her lipstick, and turned to give him a considering look. Well, she'd spent the time with Chief and Garrison delivering a little education; it would be a shame to stop the trend now. So, report card time.

"Yes, I am, aren't I? Unfortunately, Casino, YOU remind me of my older brother. I used to watch him parading around, mounting everything in sight, and considered slipping a little saltpetre into his stew just to get his mind on something else. But mother says that was just an old wives' tale, that didn't really help a man keep it tucked away. She said nothing short of a gelding knife would do that. I've tried to avoid men who seem to take after him, though I am not always successful, obviously."

"In case no one else has informed you, it is hardly flattering that you get hard as a rock at the hint of my perfume, if just about anything female passing by can get the same result. Please do not think I didn't notice the barmaid downstairs having the same result with a giggle and a wink. And I imagine you'd be just as eager to take advantage there as well. And if you wish to prove your strength, I would suggest one of those carnival games where you use a hammer and a plate to ring a bell. Unfortunately, women are not so equipped, at least I am not. I found myself wondering if I was supposed to cry out "score!" or "clang" or something similar at every surge. So, no, I'm NOT worshiping at your altar, thank you very much, nor happy that I will have to search out some bruise creme."

Well, damn! After he'd screwed her through the mattress twice in one night, you'd think she'd show a little more appreciation! Of all the things he'd expected, being turned down for a morning go-round wasn't on the list. Well, not so much turned down, as deciding suggesting an easing of his morning wood just wasn't in the cards. Hell, who knows, she just might be able to come up with a gelding knife!

The man making his way down those back steps bore a disgruntled look that would have discouraged anyone from so much as offering a passing 'good morning'. Obviously, he just wasn't in the mood!

 

V.

He'd made her an offer, perhaps just a suggestion, in Cannes, that they develop if not a partnership then a relationship. Did he still want that? Had he really wanted it then, or was it merely reflex on his part, knowing who and what she was, knowing the potential the two of them presented? Had he been conning her, trying to get a march on his team mates, the ones who'd been vying for her attention since that first meeting? Well, Casino and Goniff, anyway. Chief had been in hospital, and Garrison already HAD her attention, though not in a personal way, just because he was in charge of the mission.

Well, perhaps it didn't matter what his intentions were, then or now; he wasn't free to leave, and 'afterwards' was a long time away, if ever. In the meantime there was the 'immediate', and she was quite lovely, and besides all that, he had a reputation to uphold. Somehow the question of whether the lovely lady would be interested in his advances never occurred to him. I mean, why wouldn't she be?

The problem was, of course, this was Brandonshire, not London, and the setting hardly conducive to a sophisticated encounter. Bayside wasn't that far, however, and they had some advantages Brandonshire did not. A few phone calls, a quiet conversation with Garrison, and Actor swanned off with the lovely Duchess to a dinner at the Fairmont Hotel, where awaited a fine dinner with wine and candlelight, as well as their best hotel suite where champagne awaited them. 

The night was sublime, and he was, as usual, quite pleased with himself. Until, over breakfast, after listening to him pontificate over something or the other, she, still in educational mode, delivered a rather offhand review while nibbling on toast and jam.

"You remind me a great deal of my father, you know," watching Actor's eyes flare in shock and humiliation, though he strove mightily to not let any of that show for more than an instant. He would have been less shocked, less offended probably, if he hadn't spent the night displaying every one of his erotic talents in that upper room at the Bayside Hotel. She should have been singing paeons in his honor, not being so gently dismissive.

"He too tended to prose on. And mother always said the best love scenes he'd ever played were ones where he was playing to himself. She said sometimes she wondered if there was truly any other kind for him, if the woman in his arms wasn't at most just a mirror, and at the least, an incidental backdrop to the whole matter."

"Have you ever made love to a woman, Actor, I mean truly? To HER, herself, knowing who and what she was as a person? Wanting, at least at that moment, her and her alone? Or are we all, if sufficiently educated, sufficiently beautiful and sophisticated, are we all interchangeable, a mere convenience for the never-ending affair you are having with yourself?"

"Oh, you are very, very good, you know that. It's just that for you, it seems to be a solitary sport, not truly interactive. Speaking as one not unversed in the amatory arts, I don't really appreciate feeling like I am merely an accessory to your little solo affair. It is neither flattering, nor particularly satisfying, at least not on anything other than a strictly physical level, and there are simpler ways to accomplish that without the inconvenience of having a man present."

She'd swept from the table, leaving him sitting there, stunned, to await the bill for this little 'romantic adventure'. He'd come out of the hotel to discover she'd taken the car and headed back to Brandonshire, at least he supposed that was where she was headed. His final humiliation had been the necessity of calling Garrison to have someone come get him, there being no cars to rent in the locality.

 

The knowledge that the Duchess had NOT returned to Brandonshire, in fact had seemed to disappear into thin air, car and all, hadn't gone down well with Garrison. Well, it hadn't gone down all that well with HQ either, though there was no way they could place any blame on Garrison. He had warned them not to trust her, after all.

He was just relieved that whatever the Duchess had been up to, it seems not to have involved him or his guys. And believe you me, he'd checked! First the file room had gotten a full going over, and the safe. Then the safe in the other side of the mansion, the one he figured (well, hoped) no one else knew about, though with his guys, who could tell. There was nothing in the neighborhood she could have been after, other than at the Mansion, not that he could think of.

He'd asked the guys, and got wide-eyed innocent denials from each of them, for all that was worth, but he noticed they'd each disappeared for a while after the conversation, so they were probably checking a stash that HE knew nothing about. The assurances at dinner were much more assured, if just as innocent. No, the Duchess had taken nothing with her when she'd left.

Then his blood ran cold, and within minutes he was on the doorstep of the Cottage, demanding Meghada check her safe, her library for anything, anything at all, that the Duchess might have been after.

"Craig, she was out of my sight only briefly, and never in the vicinity of the safe. But yes, I can see you are serious, so you will sit, and drink coffee - not that you need anything else to jangle your nerves, it would appear - and I will double check everything. SIT! I will not have you breathing down my neck!"

He sat impatiently, sipping at heavily creamed coffee and nibbling at a pastry she'd sat in front of him automatically. He'd thought to remind her he wasn't Goniff, she didn't need to put food in front of him everytime he sat down, but he took another look at the flaky fruit-laced delicacy on the saucer and shrugged. Obviously this was not the time to make that particular point, something made doubly clear after he'd bit into the crumbly wedge that tasted of summertime and sunshine. He had just finished it, using his finger to get every last crumb, when she returned.

"As I said, everything she might possibly be interested in is still here, and there is no information I can think of that would do her any good except as background to a job she has planned elsewhere. And, truly Craig, if she does, and if she went through this elaborate scheme to get a peek at my maps or my descriptions of the folk customs in Carpathia or elsewhere, so be it. All the physical valuables are in place, and yes, I would spot a substitution, I assure you."

"Then I can't figure out just what the hell she was up to! You're sure she didn't take anything of yours??!"

That got him a very odd look, combination of arch amusement and knowing mischief that made him more uneasy than ever. "She is far too intelligent to lay a finger on what is mine, Craig. And in my considered view, the only thing she took with her when she left my home was YOU, when you escorted her back to her room for the night."

He'd given the young woman a fast glance, flushing just a little, wondering if she knew that he had escorted the Duchess back to her room, but hadn't left right away. {"So okay, not til morning!"}. He couldn't tell, Meghada was busy pouring more coffee, her eyes downcast and intent on the pot, the cup and not looking in his direction. Still, he didn't quite trust that little quirk at the side of her mouth.

 

VII.

"Ah, Switzerland!" She inhaled deeply, felt freedom encircle her once more. Freedom, then a pair of warm arms.

"Bernardo!" She turned, threw her arms around him, hugging him to her eagerly.

"You were gone too long, Eliza," he told her. "I missed you every moment of every day!"

"And I you! But you know we decided this was probably our best chance, and the least disagreeable." She would never tell him that part of her efforts had not been disagreeable at all, and even the others not totally. Perhaps she should take up teaching; that part, at least, had been amazingly satisfying. Oh, not the amatory arts, but there were other things she had a talent for. Perhaps. But if this con had been successful, she would have other things on her mind before long, so perhaps not.

He shrugged. "Yes, but still. Do you think we were successful?"

"I do not know, of course, but I took advantage of every opportunity to ensure our success. Four out of six anyway, so the odds are in our favor." 

He hurried her to the waiting car, "Marie has prepared luncheon, there is wine and you shall tell me all about it."

"Yes, food certainly, and perhaps one small glass of wine, but only that. I prefer to wait til I know for sure, and if turns out we were successful, there will be no more for now."

The roasted chicken was delicately prepared, Marie being an excellent cook, the vegetables crisp and sweet. As they lingered over a creme caramel, she explained, "so Actor and Casino and Chief and Lieutenant Garrison. Goniff was unavailable. I tried to include their Major Richards, but he either didn't understand where I was leading, or firmly elected NOT to understand. But anyway, four possibilities," she smiled at him. It was not a guarantee, no, but they had decided to make this one effort, before turning to other means.

They loved each other, had for many years, though had never allowed their relationship to become public til after that haul in Cannes. Now, secure in Switzerland, their bank accounts nicely plump from their past endeavors, they had all they wanted or needed. 

Except the one thing they wanted most of all - a child. A childhood illness had left Bernardo capable but unable to father a child, and they had been accepting of that lack until the thought occurred that another way would serve almost as well. And in discussing possibilities, somehow, they kept circling back to the amusing and quite talented team Eliza had worked with, then conned so beautifully, in Cannes.

So, a new con, one that led London to seek out Eliza for a 'special mission'. Like they were inclined to get involved in any of that again! And what did she need with a parole, OR their pardon, when she was already free and intended to remain that way? And maybe, just maybe, if this last con, one for the highest of stakes, proved successful, she and Bernardo would have truly all they could ever hope for.

So they raised their glasses, and toasted each other, with a heart-felt, "one last con, may it be successful."

 

Epilogue:

Casino had been the one to cause Goniff to spill his almost coffee and Major Richards to choke on his.

"Hey, Goniff, so yer gonna be handing out cigars soon, huh," the safecracker had casually dropped into the conversation after that briefing in the Common Room. "Gotta say, Meghada sure carries it good; couldn't hardly tell even, man!"

You could have heard a pin drop, well, except for the sputtering from Richards who had an assignment in his briefcase he was ready to drop off for the Dragon.

"Casino, don't go jokin about things like that!" an uneasy Goniff had protested. No, it wasn't like he was against the whole idea, in fact, kinda liked the idea, but not with him off on the missions with the team most of the time, and Meghada just as likely to be haring off on one of her own. It just wasn't the right time.

"Casino, what are you going on about? I doubt Meghada would appreciate you spreading rumors about such things," Actor chided.

Casino shrugged, reaching out for his cup. "All I know is, I stopped in to get those maps the Warden was wanting to borrow, and there she is cussing up a storm because she 'lost her place' in whatever the hell she was working on. A couple a pattern books of baby stuff, yarn and needles and little buttons and some piece of knitted folderol I'm not sure what it was supposed to be, all that shit all over the kitchen table, and I gotta tell you, the sight of her fuming over all that, reaching for the bourbon bottle and tossing down a shot, well, it almost made me forget why I was there in the first place. Miz Riley was there too, laughing up a storm, putting the hem on some little frilly thing all embroidered with pink rosebuds. Didn't like me distracting them to have her go get the maps, I'll tell you that, swinging her arms, asking me just how she was supposed to concentrate and "get this finished in time" with all these, and I quote, Warden, "silly interruptions!"

Garrison had sent a jaundiced look at their resident pickpocket, who looked back with wary eyes and a stubborn cast to his face. "No, I aint gonna call and ask 'er about it, Warden. Got too much sense for that. Just 'eard Casino say she wasn't too 'appy about being interrupted, didn't we? Can't think 'er mood would be improved any by me doing the same. Sides, she's got anything she wants to tell me, that's fine, but for w'at it's worth, I'm laying money Casino's got the wrong end of the stick. Can't see any signs of it myself, and I would, you know. Probably just a friend of 'ers, maybe family, w'at's expecting."

He was quite right, of course, and Meghada did, after a much needed drink, recover her place in that *#*@* knitted bunting, AND get the tiny pearl buttons stitched onto the creamy dress with pink rosebuds and green leaves. Sheila Riley had another good laugh when together they packaged up the bundle to be shipped off with Ian, destination Switzerland. 

"Remind me not to do anything that bloody stupid again, Sheila," Meghada had groused over a much-needed drink. "Yes, it seemed like a good idea at the time, but I swear, I'd rather take on a German patrol than get mixed up with knitting needles again! I forgot just how frustrating I find the whole process!"

"Yes, I know, and I think you are right to stick to the sewing, perhaps crocheting, next time. If that bunting could talk, that child is going to be learning a rather remarkable vocabulary in the cradle, along with developing a thirst for a drop of the hard stuff at an overly-young age!" Sheila remarked with sincere amusement.

Meghada had given a reluctant laugh, "yes, probably."

"What did your friend end up calling the wee dear?" Sheila asked.

Meghada grinned, "Bernadetta Catherine LaRochelle, plus whatever Bernardo's last name is, which I don't know. That name is easily longer than she is right now, I'm sure."

"Bernadetta, from Bernardo? Catherine from her mother, yes, you told me that. LaRochelle, that's unusual, but quite pretty. It means 'little rock", doesn't it? Does that mean Craig's destined to be her godfather?" she laughed. "After all, that's what 'Craig' means, you know, 'rock'."

Meghada gave a huff of laughter, "well, I don't know that they've asked him to be, but it sounds like a good idea, now I think on it," thinking of the description Eliza had sent, "seven pounds, six ounces, soft blonde hair with just a hint of curl, and the prettiest blue-green eyes you've ever seen, really more green than blue in some light, and, oh, Meghada, the sweetest smile! Bernardo and I are utterly delighted, of course, and love her past all telling. It is, of course, a shame that she will be an only child. Though, perhaps in time, I might visit again, after they have forgiven me for the car. After all, who knows what the future holds?"

{"Ah, Eliza, I'm not sure even the Duchess could pull off THAT con again!"} Meghada said to herself later than night. {"Then again, men being men, you never know."}. 

And she spared a final thought as she got into bed, thinking of the future, of a new team of expert con artists, Bernadetta Catherine LaRochelle and others yet unnamed, but all bearing familiar faces, all under the patient and loving tutelage of the Duchess and Bernardo. If anyone had been listening, they would have heard her mutter, "the world will never have seen the like!" as she fell asleep chuckling.


End file.
